


Sometime Around Midnight

by shamrocker531



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Exhibitionism, M/M, One Shot, Sexual Content, Songfic, Spoilers, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-18
Updated: 2010-04-18
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8203330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamrocker531/pseuds/shamrocker531
Summary: Only months after the end of his marriage, Harry runs into someone that he never expected to see again and is flooded by memories, jealousy and a desperate need to fix his mistakes. Slight DM/BZ.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Hex Files](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Hex_Files), which was closed for financial and health reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Hex Files collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thehexfiles/profile).

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling and various publishers including, but not limited to Bloomsbury Books and Scholastic Books as well as Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
The music and lyrics for Sometime Around Midnight are owned by Airborne Toxic Event. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

 

Sometime Around Midnight

 

Harry sat slouched in the high-backed booth with a glass of firewhisky in hand, occasionally raising his eyes to watch Ron and Hermione bicker at each other, or in the rare moments when they were getting along, whisper into each other’s ears. He couldn’t fault them for their behavior. They were in love; had been for years and probably would be for the rest of their lives. And he was genuinely happy for them, he really was. He just couldn’t stomach watching it at the moment.

“I’m getting another,” he told them, shouting slightly to be heard over the din of the band playing on the small stage in the corner. He lifted his glass and downed the remainder of his third drink then headed for the bar, not even giving his friends a chance to respond.

At the bar, he sidled up next to a boisterous group of brightly dressed young witches, most of them looking hardly old enough to drink. His Auror instinct fought to surface, but he really had neither the energy nor the desire to question a giggling group of teenagers about their legal right to drink. He shrugged it off; underage drinking wasn’t his department anyway.

“Ogden’s, double.” He slid his empty glass towards the bartender along with a few coins to pay. He rested his elbows on the shiny cherry surface and sighed, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension that seemed to plague him of late. He glanced down at his watch to see it was a few minutes past midnight. The kids would have been in bed for hours by now, Ginny having tucked them in and read them their stories.

He frowned as he thought of his soon to be ex-wife. She had hardly flinched when he had brought up the idea of divorce, agreeing far too quickly for his liking and leading him to wonder if maybe she had a bit on the side. He snorted softly and glanced up at the mirror over the bar, just to have something else to do than to think about his failed marriage and the fact that he had no right to be angry at the idea of his wife sleeping with someone else.

He was bathed in blue light and it reflected off his glasses and the few grey hairs sprouting at his temples. Hermione had tried to teach him a spell that would cover it, but he really couldn’t be arsed to learn it. What did he care if his hair was going grey? He was getting old, granted, a bit prematurely at only twenty-eight, but going grey was something he would just have to deal with. And it wasn’t like he had anyone to impress anymore.

The bartender slid a fresh glass of whisky in front of him and Harry lifted it, saluting the man who was already turning away from him.

“Cheers,” he said softly to himself as he brought the glass to his lips. He took a long swallow and reluctantly turned to head back to his table.

And stopped dead in his tracks when he saw _him._

Draco.

Harry’s heart seized in his chest and he had to set the glass down on the bar before his shaky hands lost their grip. He sucked in a deep breath and turned away, tucking his chin down and squeezing his eyes shut as he fought to maintain his composure.

What the fuck was he _doing_ here?

Draco was supposed to be in France. Had been for years, four to be exact. France was good. Harry could ignore him if he wasn’t even in the same country.

But he wasn’t in France anymore. He was _here_. Harry spun around, desperate to see him again. And there he was in all his radiant fucking glory.

He was standing at the other end of the bar, leaning a bit to the side and resting his hip against the polished wood. One perfectly manicured hand held a martini glass that was filled with some fruity Muggle concoction that Harry had absolutely zero idea about, but which Hermione drank like pumpkin juice. He wasn’t surprised really, that Draco would acquire a taste for such a frilly drink. His tastes had always run a bit girly in Harry’s opinion. But the frazzled brunet didn’t care about that at the moment.

It was the other hand that had him reeling. That long, graceful, beautiful hand that had years ago brought him more pleasure than he had ever known was touching another man’s face. A thumb was brushing over a full bottom lip, fingertips dancing down a stubbly cheek. Harry growled to himself, aware that he had no right being jealous, but Merlin, he had never been more so.

He grabbed his firewhisky and downed the rest before calling over the bartender for another. He stared hard at Draco, watching him laugh and throwing his head back, stepping closer to this strange man that Harry had never seen before. The Auror’s fingertips brushed over the handle of his wand and he had to mentally count to ten to stop himself from flinging hexes at a stranger who had never done anything to him.

The man was broad in the shoulders and a bit thicker in the waist than Harry, but it was all muscle. He was taller and stood with better posture, which Harry knew Draco probably appreciated. His hair was brown and his features a bit plain, but if he was being completely honest, Harry could admit that he was attractive enough. What, with his sleek Muggle suit and his large hands and his toothy grin. Harry hated him.

He paid for his drink without taking his eyes from the blond and his companion. He brought his glass to his too-dry lips and swallowed without tasting, all of his senses currently being used up by memorizing every detail he could discern from thirty feet away. 

Draco was happy, Harry could tell and his stomach jolted with the unwelcome knowledge. When he smiled, little lines that hadn’t been there at twenty-four appeared around his silvery grey eyes and his lips were constantly moving as he chatted away, unaware of the green gaze that was boring into him and becoming more and more intense with every drink that was consumed.

He was wearing white. Fuck, but Harry loved when he wore white. It was just a simple Muggle dress shirt, the top three buttons undone to show a tantalizing glimpse of collarbone and throat. Harry’s blood rushed in his temples as he remembered licking that skin, biting it until it bruised in the shape of his mouth. 

The band in the corner started up another song, this one slower and heavy on the piano, and Harry wished they would just shut up so he could maybe hear a snippet of the conversation Draco seemed so deeply engrossed in. So he could hear what was being said that put that smile on the blond’s lips.

Draco threw his head back and laughed again, his hand trailing over the chest of his date and Harry frowned once more. He wanted to walk away, to stop torturing himself, but he had never been able to take his eyes off Draco, not even when he had hated him all those years ago.

The blond sipped from his girly drink and suddenly, grey eyes rose over the rim to meet green. Harry froze, the frown melting from his face in the heat of that gaze. To the stranger at his side it would appear that Draco hadn’t even reacted to seeing his childhood nemesis. But to Harry… well, Harry knew better. He _knew_ Draco.

A soft smile flitted over pale pink lips and Draco held eye contact for a moment before turning back to his date. His hand still rested on the other man’s chest and Harry watched in horror as the man smiled brightly down at Draco before sliding his hand to the back of Draco’s neck to pull him forward and into a gentle kiss.

Harry remembered when those were his kisses and snarled softly in anger and regret. He remembered all the times that those fingers had run through his hair as he rested his head in Draco’s lap while they hid out in the Room of Requirement or upstairs at the Leaky Cauldron. He remembered when Draco had loved him.

He was queasy and the room seemed to spin around him, thanks to both witnessing Draco’s kiss with the stranger and the onslaught of memories. He seriously considered leaving without even alerting his best friends to his intentions, but knew Hermione would only hunt him down and lecture him for his inconsideration.

Draco had been _his_ damn it! But Harry wasn’t drunk enough to try pushing the blame onto anyone else. It was completely his fault and his stomach roiled at the thought.

They had been eighteen years old the first time Harry had even looked at Draco in a sexual light, just two months away from the completion of their make up year at Hogwarts. And it had started with an accidental discovery that Harry would never, ever forget.

He had been roaming the halls under his invisibility cloak, unable to sleep as per usual and he had stumbled across a scene that would haunt him for days.

_Harry walked slowly, dragging his feet and staring blankly ahead of himself. Without paying attention to where he was going, he had somehow ended up in an unused corridor of the fifth floor. There was nothing of any interest to look at; not even any paintings to talk to or argue with._

_He stopped suddenly when he heard a soft moan and a few hushed whispers coming from around the corner. Curiosity piqued, he crept forward silently and slipped around the corner, happy to finally have something to chase away the boredom. But when he took in the sight before him, he was immobilized by shock._

_Draco Malfoy was pressed against the wall, his green and silver school tie draped loosely around his neck, his shirt open and hanging off his shoulders and his blond head thrown back, his eyes shut tight in ecstasy._

_On his knees was Draco’s best friend, Blaise Zabini. His lips were wrapped around Draco’s cock, his dark hands stroking and squeezing pale flesh. Harry held his breath as his heart began to thunder in his chest. He shouldn’t be watching this. He shouldn’t be staring at the bobbing of Draco’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed convulsively; at the sight of his heaving chest and hard nipples; at the sharp bones of his hips as he thrust forward into his friend’s mouth. Harry knew he should turn around and walk away. But he also knew that he wouldn’t and quickly gave up the internal fight._

_Draco curled his fingers into thick, dark hair and moaned, guiding Blaise’s head to move faster._

_The obscene smacking and slurping sounds did nothing to decrease the burning in Harry’s gut or the heat in his groin and he tried valiantly to ignore his erection even as he continued to watch, his eyes wide with fascinated interest._

_“Fuck,” Draco moaned. “Come on, Blaise.” He gripped his hair harder. “Suck harder, you git.”_

_Blaise pulled back with a wet pop and glared up at his friend. “If you want me to continue, you better shut the fuck up. The whole fucking school is going to hear you.”_

_Draco grunted in response and tried to force his erection back between Blaise’s tightly sealed lips. “Just suck me, you arse.”_

_Blaise pushed at Draco’s hips and stood up. “I’m not your fucking whore, Malfoy.”_

_Draco snorted and grabbed the boy’s wrist before he could walk away. “What’s the problem here? Why are you all of a sudden acting like a fucking girl?”_

_Blaise shoved him. “Why don’t you just do us both a favor and go get Potter to suck you? That’s who you’re imaging when my mouth is on you anyway.”_

_Harry took a startled step backwards, a jolt of pure_ want _like he had never felt before ripping through him and straight to his throbbing groin._

_Draco’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Blaise in horror. “Wha – I don’t – you have no idea what you’re talking about! I don’t want Potter! That’s repulsive, Zabini.”_

_“Are you sure? You two have certainly become chummy of late.”_

_“We’re friends now,” Draco protested with a roll of his eyes. “You’re friends with the bloody Gryffindors as well so don’t go all fucking high and mighty on me now, you twat! The war is over and we don’t have to fight with them anymore. I don’t know about you, but I was bloody well sick of it.”_

_Blaise shook his arm free from Draco’s grip and stepped away from him. “I just don’t want to do this anymore, Dray. I don’t think I’m gay.”_

_Draco snorted and it turned quickly into a full-blown belly laugh. “You’re not gay? You sucked my dick and had yours sucked in return for almost a full school year before you figured that out?” He laughed until his eyes filled with tears, but when he took in the serious look on his best friend’s face, his laugh faded quickly and turned into an icy glare. “You met someone.”_

_Blaise shrugged and looked away, all but confirming Draco’s suspicions. “I just don’t want to do it anymore.”_

_Draco tucked away his now soft cock and quickly straightened his clothes and hair, transforming from debauched Slytherin student to proper Malfoy heir in front of Harry’s very eyes. “Fine. You weren’t that great at it anyway.”_

_That startled a laugh out of Blaise and he threw his arm around his friend’s neck. “Come on. Let’s go get Pansy and devise a plan on how you can seduce the Golden Boy.”_

_Draco nudged him with his elbow as they started to walk away. “Sod off.”_

_Harry watched them go then raced up to Gryffindor Tower, threw the curtains on his bed shut and cast the strongest Silencing Spell he could manage. He then proceeded to have the best fucking wank of his entire life, imagining those pale lips wrapped around him, those long fingers stroking him and teasing him. Before he knew it, his toes were curling and his back arching as he shouted Draco’s name and came all over his hand and stomach._

Harry turned towards the bar and pressed the heel of his hand against his stiff cock, trying to urge away his untimely erection. On any normal day, he loved the fact that wizarding culture had finally embraced Muggle clothing, but today was definitely not one of those days. He knew his tight jeans would do nothing to hide his problem from prying eyes.

He had never seen two men together before that fateful evening. It had changed his entire life. And even now, ten years later, all it took was thinking of that night and he was instantly as hard as steel.

Hesitantly, he glanced over his shoulder in Draco’s direction to see the blond looking at him once again. He and his date were standing close together and swaying to the music, but Draco seemed to only have eyes for him. Harry managed a small nod before looking down into his amber-colored drink to avoid those eyes.

Merlin, those eyes. Harry exhaled heavily. Nothing had ever affected him quite like Draco’s eyes could, whether happy, sad or downright furious. The six years they had spent together had been far from perfect so he had had plenty of experience with those emotions and every other one in between. Harry could recall every look of love and lust, those being his favorites and the ones usually called forward when he allowed himself to remember. But the one he wanted to forget wouldn’t leave him. He could recall in a flash how Draco’s eyes had looked on that horrible night four years ago and he hated that memory more than he had hated anything in his life.

_“You’re mine,” Draco groaned, his long, lean legs flung over strong shoulders as Harry gripped his thighs tightly and pounded into him again and again, the pace almost brutal._

_“Yes,” Harry panted. “Yes, yours.” He turned his head and placed a wet kiss on Draco’s calf._

_“You love me,” Draco continued and arched his back at a particularly hard thrust, his mouth falling open and a soft moan escaping. He grabbed at Harry’s shoulder and dug his nails in, holding on tightly._

_“Yes, I love you,” Harry agreed. And by the gods, did he ever. He leaned forward onto his hands and sucked a perfectly shaped pink nipple into his mouth. He nibbled and sucked, flicked his tongue over the hard bud and smiled when he heard the whimpering sounds coming from his lover._

_“Harry,” Draco whined softly, his toes curling and his back arching off the bed._

_“Draco.” Harry lowered himself onto his forearms, almost bending the other man in half. But they’d been doing this for years and he knew Draco could take it; he knew that he loved being twisted and prodded into whatever shape Harry fancied. He balanced on one arm and raised his free hand to push the damp locks from Draco’s sweaty forehead. He trailed his fingers down a flushed cheek and over swollen lips, dipping his fingertips inside of that clever mouth to feel the wet caress of the blond’s tongue._

_“I love you,” Draco managed between heavy breaths. His hand tangled in Harry’s messy hair and pulled harshly, for no other reason than that Harry liked it._

_“Yes,” Harry whispered and ducked his head to press his face into Draco’s throat. He licked at the salty skin and bit at the hardness of his clavicle. He trailed light kisses back up to his neck and reveled in the feel of the blond’s rushing pulse beneath his tongue, the desperate pounding that echoed in his own chest as they sought their release after nearly half an hour of drunken fucking._

_Draco’s hand suddenly tightened in Harry’s hair and his breathing stopped. His heels dug into Harry’s back and his nails gouged into his shoulder, leaving bloody marks that Harry would have to hide under a Glamour later._

_And then Draco came. Mouth open, head thrown back, face and neck flushed with color; nothing was more beautiful than that, at least not to Harry._

_He loved the clenching of velvety smooth walls around his cock. He loved the faint scent of his lover’s come as it slicked their chests and smeared between them. Nothing in life was this good and he damn well knew that nothing ever would be._

_Harry lifted his head to look into those grey eyes that he had fallen so desperately in love with and pressed forward for a kiss. He was close to completion and he loved kissing Draco while he came. He loved the feel of Draco’s wicked tongue tangling roughly with his own while the blond’s arse clenched around him. And Draco knew it too, had figured it out on his own. Harry loved him even more for not having to tell him._

_Still panting from his own intense climax, Draco shoved his tongue deep into Harry’s mouth, licking and flicking and tasting. He kissed him until Harry could hardly breathe, the lack of oxygen giving him that extra push he needed to send him spiraling towards orgasm. Draco buried his long fingers into dark hair and held him in place, sucking at his tongue and refusing to let up, even when his lover became desperate for air._

_Harry groaned and gasped into Draco’s mouth and pumped into him faster and harder. He felt the tightening in his balls, the burning pressure in his groin and then Draco was squeezing and releasing around him, again and again and his orgasm hit him like a Bludger to the stomach. He jerked violently, crying out into the blond’s unrelenting mouth as his cock seemed to explode from the overwhelming sensations._

_Draco kept kissing him and Harry’s head and vision began to swim. He squeezed his eyes shut as his frantic pace lessened into slow, lazy thrusts. He dreaded the conversation that was to be had once his erection subsided, so he kept moving, even as he grew soft._

_With his last bit of strength, he finally pulled his mouth free and rolled off of the man beneath him, collapsing onto the worn, lumpy mattress provided for a cheap fee by the Leaky Cauldron. He breathed deeply and opened his eyes, sighing softly as his vision cleared and his heart rate began to return to normal._

_Draco rolled over with a soft groan and pressed his face into Harry’s sweaty neck. “I dare say, that was even more bloody amazing than usual,” he muttered, tracing his kiss-swollen lips over Harry’s neck and ear. His fingers plucked lightly at Harry’s sensitive nipples for a moment before the blond finally stilled, slumping into his lover with a heavy sigh of contentment. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sit for a week.”_

_Harry stared silently at the ceiling, a small part of him wishing that Draco would just fall asleep so that the subject could be avoided for another day. All he needed was one excuse and he could push it off, like he had been doing for so long._

_But there was no excuse to come this time._

_Draco kissed Harry’s shoulder and rubbed slow circles over his chest. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard since we were at Hogwarts.”_

_“I asked Ginny to marry me.”_

_The room fell silent and Draco’s hand went still where it rested over Harry’s pounding heart._

_Harry held his breath and shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable explosion._

_“You what?” Draco finally asked, his voice small and soft._

_That was worse. Angry, Harry could handle. Hurt, however, was another story._

_Harry slowly sat up, pulling a pillow into his lap both to cover his suddenly uncomfortable nudity and to give his hands something to do. He stared down at the frayed covering, picking at a loose string. “I proposed to Ginny. She accepted.”_

_“But…”_

_Harry looked up and his breath caught at the look of utter despair on Draco’s lovely face. His grey eyes were wide, swimming in confusion and heartbreak and for a split second, Harry considered taking it back and telling him it was only a joke._

_But it wasn’t a joke._

_“I had to, Draco,” he said softly, despising the sound of his own voice; knowing that it was his voice that was hurting this brilliant, beautiful man beside him._

_“You said we were going to be together,” Draco reminded him, the old Malfoy iciness beginning to wipe away the sound of vulnerability. “You said you were going to break up with her and that we would stop hiding.”_

_Harry almost sighed in relief at the hardening of the blond’s voice. “I know.”_

_“You said you loved me.”_

_“I do love you!” Harry reached for Draco’s hand, but it was snatched away before he could make contact._

_And finally, the blond exploded in anger. “What the fuck, Harry?!” He jumped out of the bed, dragging a dingy old sheet with him and wrapping it around his waist._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Fuck you, Potter! You’re not fucking ‘sorry’. You knew you were going to marry her and you came here and got me drunk and fucked me anyway? What in the name of Salazar is wrong with you?!”_

_Harry swallowed and chanced a quick look at his angry lover. “I don’t know,” he whispered._

_“I broke off my engagement, you fucking prat! My father will hardly speak to me and my mother keeps giving me these looks like I’ve ruined my life and theirs too and I’ve suffered through it, hoping they would eventually get over it and accept us and I did it all for you!”_

_“I know and I’m so sor – ”_

_“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry, Harry or I will AK you so quickly that your darling Ginny will never get the chance to marry your sorry arse!”_

_Harry blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that flooded his vision. “Draco,” he whispered, unsure of what else to say._

_“Six fucking_ years.” _Draco turned away from him and covered his face with his hands, his shoulders slumping. “I love you, you arse,” he muttered, almost to himself._

_“I owe it to her. She loved me first.” And even as it was coming out of his mouth, Harry had known it was the wrong thing to say._

_Draco spun around, grabbed his wand off of the bedside table and lunged forward, pressing it into Harry’s neck._

_Harry choked on a sob when he saw the tears in the eyes of the man he loved more than anything. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he told him._

_Draco’s perfect white teeth were clenched and his lower lip trembled as he pressed the tip of his hawthorn wand harder into Harry’s throat. “I hate you,” he cried softly, tears dripping down his flushed cheeks. He twisted his hand, grinding the tip in and trying his hardest to make it hurt and Harry did nothing to stop him, despite the pain. He knew he deserved it._

_“She can give me a family,” he explained, though he knew it wasn’t enough and that nothing he could say would fix that broken look in those grey eyes. His own heart felt like it was being shattered into millions of pieces so he couldn’t begin to even fathom how Draco felt. “I want children and she can give that to me.”_

_“We could have adopted!”_

_“She’s pregnant,” Harry finally admitted._

_Silver grey eyes stared at him in shock, the wand trembling against his Adam’s apple as a defeated sense of hopelessness engulfed them both. Draco pushed the wand in deeper and let out a soft sob. “I should fucking Crucio you right now,” he whispered, but they both knew he would never do it._

_“It was an accident,” Harry said softly. “I didn’t plan it.”_

_Draco squeezed his eyes shut, but didn’t let up on the wand. “When did you propose?”_

_“What?”_

_“When did you fucking propose, Potter?!”_

_Harry swallowed heavily. “Christmas Eve,” he managed, though the lump that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in this throat threatened to choke him. “She told me she was pregnant on Christmas Eve and I proposed to her right then.”_

_Draco’s face fell and his arm went slack, the wand suddenly gone from Harry’s neck. “Three months? You proposed to her three bloody months ago and didn’t think to tell me?” He climbed off the bed and began gathering his clothes. “When’s the wedding?”_

_“Two weeks,” Harry whispered._

_Draco grabbed a shoe and lobbed it at Harry’s head, letting out a primal scream as he vented his hurt and frustration on his now ex-lover._

_Harry ignored the shoe that missed his head by only centimeters and scrambled forward on the bed, closer to the furious blond. “We can still be together,” he said, panicking at the thought of losing his love for good. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know how we’ll do it, but we can still meet up. I can come to your place or – ”_

_Draco turned around and gave him the dirtiest look he could muster, stopping the flood of words that flowed from Harry’s mouth. His eyes were hard and cold, his posture stiff. He looked eerily like the Draco who had hated him as a child and the last shard of hope Harry had been clinging to fell away, leaving him empty._

_“I won’t be your dirty little secret,” Draco snarled at him. “How dare you even suggest I demean myself in such a way?” He roughly pulled on his trousers and almost tore a sleeve as he tugged on his shirt._

_Harry could no longer fight his tears so he let them come. “I was going to give her up,” he said as Draco grabbed his shoes and headed for the door. “I was, love, I swear it. That’s why I didn’t tell you. But…I can’t leave my baby behind. Please tell me that you understand that. I have to do the right thing.”_

_Draco stopped at the door, but didn’t turn around. “Don’t try to talk to me again,” he said in a calm, steady voice. “Just leave me alone, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer; he just threw the door open, not even bothering to close it behind him in his hasty retreat._

_Harry pulled the blankets up over his head and began to sob, knowing very well that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life._

But it hadn’t been all bad, being married to Ginny. There had been times when he had believed himself to be genuinely happy and he remembered that they had laughed a lot, at least in the beginning. Not to mention she had given him two amazing sons and only two months earlier, a beautiful baby girl. His children were three things he could never regret, no matter who got hurt.

He looked up and watched Draco whisper to his companion, who only became more and more attractive the more Harry drank, which in turn just made Harry more and more bitter. The handsome man smiled his obnoxiously charming smile and kissed Draco’s cheek before nodding his head and turning to talk to someone else.

Harry’s heart jumped into his throat as Draco turned and made his way towards him. He quickly gulped down the rest of his drink and waved the bartender over once again for another refill. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world for the conversation that was about to be had. His stomach turned as the firewhisky burned its way down his throat and he tried his hardest to concentrate on that instead of the ridiculously sexy blond who now stood before him.

“Hello, Harry.”

He froze as the sound of Draco’s voice sent an achingly familiar shiver up his tense spine. “Draco,” he said softly. After a few deep breaths, he forced himself to look up and he was immediately swallowed up in that piercing gaze.

Draco smiled a real, honest, ear-to-ear grin and leaned in to kiss Harry’s smooth cheek. “It’s been a long time,” he said softly.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, the tension leaving his body as he was assaulted by the always intoxicating scent of Draco’s skin. He smelled of cool spring air and oranges and something spicy that Harry had never been able to put his finger on. He just knew that he loved it.

“It has,” he agreed once he found his voice.

Draco took a step back, but ran his hand slowly down Harry’s arm, his fingers lingering on the underside of his wrist before abruptly letting go. “It’s good to see you.”

Harry nodded and cleared his suddenly parched throat. “You too.”

“How have you been?” Draco moved to a free stool at the bar and sat down with the same graceful ease with which he did everything else. He pulled out the stool next to him and patted it, inviting Harry to sit.

Harry sat down heavily, glad to have his wobbly legs out from under him. “I left Ginny,” he blurted and immediately looked away as his face burned in embarrassment at the outburst.

Draco chuckled softly and touched Harry’s arm, squeezing lightly before letting go. “So I’ve heard. News travels fast in the wizarding world. I’m sure the _Daily Prophet_ is having a field day.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. “Fucking Skeeter…what a bloody nuisance.”

“Yeah, she’s basically been tailing me for the last month trying to get me to grant her an interview. I haven’t spoken with the press yet, but I may not have a choice much longer if I want them to stop speculating about our ‘inevitable reconciliation’.”

“So, there’s no hope then?” Draco asked, his eyes trained on the drink in front of him.

Harry shook his head and gave a hesitant smile, aware that he wasn’t supposed to be happy about the failure of his marriage. “No. There’s no hope for us.”

“Did you finally tell her?”

“About you?” He had never told anyone about Draco and as far as he knew, Draco had only ever told his parents about their relationship. Not even Ron and Hermione knew.

“Not about me in particular...about being gay.”

“Oh.” Harry scratched at his hair and nodded. “Well, sort of. I only told her that I’ve been attracted to men.”

“Was she angry?”

“Uh…not really?” Harry shrugged. “I’m not really sure how she felt about it. I could just tell that she was relieved that it would be over and she could move on to bigger and better things.”

“Bigger and better,” Draco snorted softly. “I always knew that girl wasn’t good enough for you, Harry.” He sipped at his drink again and watched in amusement as the Auror fidgeted beside him.

“What?” Harry finally asked.

Draco smiled and shook his head. He set his drink down and turned to face him, raising one hand to gently run his fingertips over the grey hair at Harry’s temple.

Harry blushed. “I know. Hermione keeps trying to get me to cover it, but I haven’t bothered learning the spell.”

“It suits you,” Draco said with a reassuring smile. He gave the short hairs a gentle tug and then let go. “Don’t cover it. You look handsome…distinguished. I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You look…really nice.” Harry almost choked on the inadequacy of that statement, but he couldn’t seem to make his tongue cooperate with his brain. The truth was, Draco had never looked more beautiful and Harry mourned the fact that he would never be capable of finding the words to tell him so.

But Draco took it in stride, not even missing a beat. “Thank you.” He motioned to the bartender to replenish both of their drinks and the man filled the request twice as fast as he had for Harry, much to Harry’s annoyance.

“So, who’s your friend?” Harry finally asked, unable to shake the image of Draco kissing the other man. He needed to know how serious things were between them.

“Oh, that’s Philippe,” Draco said with a fond smile directed towards his friend. “He’s a friend from France. He helped me with the move back.”

Harry tried his hardest to hold back his excitement. “You’re back for good then?”

Draco’s smile faded and he nodded. “Yes. My father is ill and I’m to take over when he passes.”

“Oh, Draco, I’m sorry.” Harry rested a gentle hand on Draco’s shoulder. He knew how much Draco loved his father, but Harry and Lucius Malfoy had never managed a civil relationship and probably never would. Harry had once declared himself willing to try for Draco’s sake, but Draco had all but told him that the effort was pointless and would not be reciprocated.

Draco just shrugged and sipped his drink. “He was never the same after the war.” After a short, painfully uncomfortable silence, he pushed the glass back and nodded to the bartender that it was alright to take it away before standing and smiling at Harry. “I should be getting back.”

Harry racked his brain, desperate to come up with something, anything that would interest Draco enough that he would stay. He wasn’t ready to let him walk away again.

“It was good to see you, Harry.”

Before Harry could even understand what was happening, he was wrapped up in Draco’s arms, his nose buried in citrus scented hair and his hands clinging to the back of the man’s crisp cotton shirt.

“You do know that I’m sorry, don’t you?” Harry asked, the tone of his voice begging the blond to believe him.

“Yes,” Draco whispered. He tightened his arms around him for just a moment before letting go and taking a step back. “I didn’t believe you then, but I believe you now.”

Harry reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around a thin wrist. “I can’t regret it because I have my kids, but otherwise, I would have done everything differently. _Everything.”_

Draco smiled and it was heartbreakingly beautiful. “I know. Me too.” He covered the hand that was holding his wrist with his own hand and traced the knuckles with his fingertips. “I hated you for such a long time Harry, but then Scorpius was born and I realized I would never have had that if you hadn’t ended things between us. And I wouldn’t give him up for the world.”

Harry nodded. He had read about the birth of Scorpius Malfoy in the paper, but had only seen one picture of Draco and a petite blonde woman standing together with their tiny, perfect baby and then refused to read anything else. Hypocritical as it was, he couldn’t stand the idea of Draco with someone else.

“Astoria has him for the summer,” Draco explained as if Harry had asked. “I get him the rest of the year. I fought hard and for a while it looked like I would lose, but in the end, I only had to throw an extra couple million at her and I got the custody settlement that I wanted.”

“That’s horrible,” Harry said with a frown. “She gave him up for more money?”

Draco shrugged, making even that one small gesture seem fluid and elegant. “I agreed to marry her knowing that I would leave her as soon as she gave me a child. Most people would think that fairly horrible as well.”

Harry was silent, refusing to agree to a single bad word said about the man who had stolen his heart so many years ago.

Draco looked up, in the general direction of Philippe and smiled. “I really should go.” He looked back at Harry.

“Do you love him?” Harry asked, gripping that thin wrist even tighter.

Draco’s face fell. “Who? Philippe?”

Harry nodded.

Draco shifted slightly, trying to pull his hand back from Harry’s strong grip, but Harry wouldn’t let go. “I wouldn’t call it love exactly. It’s… comfortable.”

“Oh, Draco, you deserve so much more than ‘comfortable’,” Harry said softly.

Draco bit his lip and took a step back, casting a quick glance back towards his friend. “He’s a good man.” After a long moment of tense silence, he finally looked back at Harry, a faint flush staining his cheeks pink.

Harry chanced a look at Philippe for himself and saw the man staring back at the two of them. He looked distinctly uncomfortable as his eyes took in Draco’s stiff posture and Harry’s hand clutching at him. “Think he’s jealous?” Harry asked.

“Philippe doesn’t get jealous,” Draco said with a slight edge to his voice. He twisted his arm to free himself from Harry’s grasp.

“Then he doesn’t love you,” Harry hissed at him, reaching out again. “You should be with someone who does.”

Draco pushed his hand away and gave him a stern look. “Let’s not do this right now, Potter.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the use of his surname and took a step closer. “When do you suggest that we do _do it_ then?”

Draco blushed at the double entendre and looked away. “Maybe we’ll talk again when you’re sober.” He glanced at his watch and sighed. “It’s rather later than I thought. I have a couple of interviews tomorrow, so I really must go.”

“Are you staying at the Manor?”

“No. I’m back at my flat,” he said. “Look, Harry…” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and to let you know that…I don’t hate you…not anymore.” He smiled and shrugged. “I don’t want things to be strange between us if we run into each other in the future.”

Harry nodded, unable to speak through the tightness in his throat.

Draco leaned in and kissed his cheek again, smoothing his dark, unruly hair back as he did so. “I’ll see you around.” And he turned and walked away without giving Harry a chance to respond.

Harry stared after him. As soon as he had seen Draco walking his way he had known the conversation was going to be painful. But words couldn’t begin to explain the ache in his chest or the burning behind his eyes.

He watched Draco standing close to Philippe as they seemed to argue quietly for a moment. He watched as they collected their coats and said their goodbyes to the group surrounding them. He watched as Draco glanced over his shoulder, looking straight at him as he gave him a small, sad smile before walking out the door.

Harry managed to raise his hand in a brief wave, but couldn’t bring himself to smile back. All he could think about was the stilted awkwardness that had developed between them and how he was the only one to blame. Even as childhood enemies, they had been able to speak with ease, even if their words were mostly insulting and hurtful.

The only time he could ever remember being so awkward in Draco’s presence had been the first night they had spent together. It had happened in the Room of Requirement only a week after what Draco affectionately dubbed ‘the Blaise incident’ and Harry had been absolutely terrified for the majority of the evening.

_Harry bit his lip hard as he stared down at the top of Draco’s head, watching as the blond trailed his tongue over his chest, tracing muscles and nipples with the lightest of touches. Draco’s fingers were wrapped around his erection and holding it loosely, not moving. Harry didn’t mind though. He was so aroused that he was sure one stroke would be all it would take to send him over the edge and end their night early._

_“Are you positive you want to do this, Potter?” Draco asked. He traced slow circles around Harry’s navel with his fingertips and peered up at him with eyes that were almost black with lust._

_Harry thought of Ginny for only a moment before nodding. He cleared his throat and released the painful bite on his now swollen lower lip. “Yes,” he whispered._

_Draco gave him a playful smirk and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Want me to do what you watched Blaise doing to me when you were playing voyeur?”_

_Harry blushed and looked away for a moment, like he had done every time Draco had reminded him of what he had seen, which was quite often. He had been terribly embarrassed when he had awoken after a night of drinking and remembered the drunken confession he had made to the blond the night before. But he couldn’t regret it; not for one single moment because that confession had led to this. And this…was wonderful._

_“Potter?” Draco licked a long stripe over his stomach and down his hip. “You didn’t answer me. Do you want me to suck you?”_

_Harry nodded eagerly, his blush spreading to his neck and chest as Draco laughed against the skin of his thighs._

_And then his cock was enveloped in the warm, wet confines of Draco’s perfect mouth._

_Harry gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. One hand gripped the blanket at his side and the other fell lightly onto Draco’s head, holding him in place. “Wait,” he whispered and hated how squeaky his voice sounded. He sucked in a huge lungful of air and held it before exhaling noisily. “Fuck, Malfoy.” His fingers ran gently over soft blond locks as he tried to relax and he silently cursed himself for not wanking earlier to take the edge off._

_Draco held completely still, but smiled around his mouthful of cock._

_“It’s going to be quick,” Harry finally said, knowing there was no way around it._

_Draco chuckled and Harry groaned loudly and bucked his hips at the vibrations._

_With a deep breath, Harry let go of Draco’s head and braced himself._

_It only took a few hard sucks and a light flick of the tongue over the head and Harry arched his back, crying out wordlessly as he came harder than ever into the mouth of his once rival._

_Draco made soft noises of satisfaction as he continued to gently lick at the still hard shaft. His hands stroked at Harry’s trembling thighs and up over the tight muscles of his abdomen. When Harry finally began to soften, Draco lifted his head and kissed his stomach._

_“Sorry,” Harry muttered, his arm thrown over his face which was red with mortification._

_Draco crawled up Harry’s body, straddling his hips and settling down so that his firm arse rested against Harry’s now limp cock. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he whispered as he pried the arm from Harry’s burning face. “That was a nice ego booster.” He smiled down at him then leaned in to place a series of soft kisses over his cheeks, chin and lips. “You taste good.” And with that, he pressed his lips to Harry’s and slid his tongue inside._

_Harry moaned and his hands gripped at narrow, slightly bony hips, holding tight. “Draco,” he muttered between kisses._

_“Hmm?” Draco pulled away from Harry’s mouth and concentrated instead on his neck and shoulders._

_“What about you?” Harry asked despite his nervousness. “Do you want me to…?” He slid a hand between their bodies and ran his fingers over the hardness he found there._

_Draco groaned and pressed his face into Harry’s neck. “No,” came his muffled reply. “I have other plans for that.”_

_Harry’s pulse skyrocketed and he went still. “What sort of plans?”_

_“Well…” There was a soft kiss against the hollow of his throat. “Once we get you up and running again…” Another kiss, this time to his left shoulder. “…I was hoping you’d put your cock in my arse.” Then his right shoulder._

_“Oh, Merlin,” Harry moaned as his cock gave a definite twitch of interest at the idea._

_Draco laughed. “I love making you blush,” he said before swooping down to kiss him again._

_Harry held onto him, his mind dizzy with the thought of what they were about to do. It had only been a week since he had admitted he liked boys at all and here was Draco…beautiful, smart, snarky Draco Malfoy, sitting on top of him and waiting for him to get hard again so he could take Harry’s virginity. It was almost too much to handle._

_“Maybe we should wait,” Harry said between kisses._

_Draco stilled and sat up, pressing his arse back against Harry’s renewed erection. “You don’t want to?” He looked down at Harry in confusion, his brow furrowed adorably and lower lip caught between his teeth._

_Harry rubbed his broom calloused hands over smooth, white thighs and shrugged. “I just don’t think we should rush things.”_

_Draco stared at him for a moment before his frown eased and morphed into a surprised smile. “You like me,” he said and it was more a statement than a question._

_Harry stilled his hands. “Of course I do, you git. We’ve been friends for months.”_

_“No, I mean, you really like me.” Draco’s grin quickly turned to a laugh. “Who ever would have thought…the Boy Who Lived falling for the son of a Death Eater.”_

_“Whatever, Malfoy.” Harry nudged at him, trying to push him off of him so he could get up and leave. He hadn’t agreed to meet just to be made fun of._

_“No.” Draco tightened his legs around Harry’s sides, holding himself in place so the smaller man couldn’t escape. His laughter faded and he put his hands on Harry’s shoulders, pinning him back down onto the pillows. “Stop it, Harry. You’re not leaving now.”_

_Harry stared blankly at the wall, refusing to make eye contact, but he stopped struggling as Draco ordered._

_“We don’t have to have sex.” Draco lowered himself onto his elbows and nudged Harry’s chin with his nose. “Come on. Will you please look at me?”_

_Harry sighed and finally looked up at him._

_“The truth is…I really like you too…quite a bit actually.” And to Harry’s delight, two small dots of color appeared on his pale cheeks as he averted his gaze and bit at his lip nervously._

_Harry reached up and stroked the hair from his eyes, tucking it behind one perfectly shaped ear. “Well…good,” he said with a soft smile._

_Draco smiled back down at him, his blush darkening as he leaned in for a kiss._

Harry was jolted back to the present by a rough hand slapping him on the shoulder. He realized he was still staring at the door Draco had disappeared through and hadn’t even noticed his friends approaching.

“Harry? Are you alright?”

He glanced over at Hermione and frowned. “What?” He glanced back at the exit, not sure what he was hoping to see. He knew Draco was long gone.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Hermione’s eyes followed his to the exit and she furrowed her brow in confusion. “Did something happen?”

“What?” Harry looked at her again. “Oh, no. Nothing happened.”

Ron patted his back. “We saw you talking to Malfoy, mate. Did that slimy git say something to upset you?”

“No. He didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry shook his head and tried to force a smile at his red haired friend. “I need to go.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Hermione rested a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m fine, ‘Mione, promise.” Harry leaned in and kissed her cheek. He smacked Ron on the back as he passed him and headed quickly for the door.

He stumbled slightly on the crooked steps outside the club, but thankfully he righted himself almost immediately, saving himself the embarrassment of falling in public.

Picking a direction at random, he turned and started walking down the nearly deserted street. There were a few couples here and there holding hands or snogging in dark doorways, but the cars were few and it was peacefully quiet.

He couldn’t get Draco off of his mind. His brilliant smile; his soft, musical laugh; the smell of his skin and hair; it all seemed to be haunting him. A cool breeze blew over him and he shuddered at the chill, only then remembering that he had left his jacket at the pub. His steps faltered, but he had no desire to return to the noisy establishment, so he just kept on walking.

Turning left at the next corner, he bumped heavily into a large man and stumbled once again, this time having to brace himself on a wrought-iron gate to keep his feet beneath him. He mumbled a quick apology and continued on his way, paying no attention to the man who was now staring back at him and muttering under his breath in annoyance.

He had to see Draco again. He _needed_ to see him, if only to apologize for the comments he had made that seemed to upset the other man. But he couldn’t go see Draco because Draco was with Philippe now and Harry wanted no part of seeing that stupid, poncy Frenchman.

He growled to himself as his mind raced with unwanted thoughts of what they could possibly be doing at that very moment. Disgusted and sick with jealousy, he came to a complete stop, glancing around to try to figure out where he was. The street looked familiar, but not familiar enough that he would be able to say why it was familiar.

Reluctant to apparate in his drunken state in fear of splinching, he continued walking, hoping he would come to a more recognizable street or landmark.

“Stupid Draco,” he mumbled softly to himself. “Stupid _Philippe_.” That was who he was really angry with. Well, that wasn’t exactly true either if he was being completely honest.

He had to get to Draco. He needed to find him and apologize for real this time and they needed to sit down and talk about what happened. Harry needed to beg him to take him back; plead with him to give him just one more chance. And he wouldn’t waste it this time. He would tell the Weasleys and Hermione and Neville and Kingsley and everyone in the entire damned wizarding world that he was completely arse over heels in love with Draco Malfoy. He wouldn’t secret Draco away again like he was something to be ashamed of. He would let the world know exactly how proud he was that Draco Malfoy had chosen him.

He smiled at his plan. It was a good plan, or at least he thought so. Draco would have to take him back if he could only convince him that he was sorry enough.

“Right,” he said softly to himself. He came upon another street, this one familiar enough that he could pinpoint in his mind exactly where he was. Draco’s flat was only a few blocks away and Harry decided then and there that he was going to go over there and win back his love.

A fat raindrop hit him on the cheek and he flinched, startled by the sudden weather. He looked up at the sky just in time for the heavens to open, soaking him through in only a few short moments.

He cursed softly and took off at a run, heading for the posh high-rise building that he had spent so many nights in years ago.

It had been more of a home to them than anywhere, when Harry could get away from Ginny that was, which wasn’t very often. But despite their limited time together, they had had so many firsts in that flat that Harry’s eyes pricked with tears at the idea of stepping foot inside once again.

They had spent their first Christmas together there, wrapped up in each other’s arms in front of a roaring fire. And their first Valentine’s Day, even though they both abhorred the holiday and had just ended up getting Chinese take-out and eating on the floor in the living room. Fuck, even their first real fight had been there, Harry standing in the kitchen in his briefs while Draco stood in front of him in full wizarding robes and they had screamed themselves hoarse and threw things at each other until Draco had tackled Harry onto the floor where they made love for hours. 

Harry slowed to a jog when a sharp pain developed in his side from running full speed through the cold rain. His heaving breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on Draco’s building which was just across the street from where he stood.

One of his all time favorite memories had happened within those walls, six floors up, the last door on the right. He had never been happier than he had been with Draco and he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he had thought he could have been even half as happy with anyone else.

_Harry had woken from a nightmare, not that that was an uncommon occurrence only a year and a half after the war had ended. He had lain there in bed, staring at the ceiling and breathing deeply to get his blood pressure back under control._

_He looked over to be sure he hadn’t woken his lover and sighed softly when he saw that Draco was still sleeping peacefully, one of his hands balled in a fist and tucked tightly under his chin._

_Harry smiled and leaned over to kiss the blond’s forehead before climbing quietly out of bed and heading for the bathroom._

_Soon after, he was immersed in bubbles, sinking deep into Draco’s oversized bathtub and groaning softly as the hot water began melting away the last of his horrible nightmare. The scent of lavender bubble bath filled his senses and he sighed heavily as his muscles turned to jelly and his eyes fell closed._

_“Make sure you don’t fall asleep,” a quiet voice said from the open doorway. “Wouldn’t want you to drown in my bathroom. That would be an awkward conversation to have with Granger and Weasley.”_

_Harry smiled at the playful sound of his lover’s voice. “I’m not sleeping, just relaxing,” he promised. He opened his eyes and his smile grew as he gazed up at his disheveled Draco. His pajamas were wrinkled and the normally smooth hair on his head was sticking up in the back, having been flattened by his pillows._

_Draco leaned against the counter and watched him, his grey eyes following the ripples in the water and the occasional glimpse of tan skin._

_“Had a bad dream,” Harry said to the sudden silence. He averted his gaze, focusing instead on the soft glow of candles lining the foot of the bathtub._

_Draco was silent as he moved closer and settled himself down next to the bath. He leaned back against the wall and wrapped his arms around his knees, looking thoughtfully at his boyfriend. “Do you want to talk about it?”_

_Harry shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to keep back both the tears and anger that usually overwhelmed him on the nights where all he saw behind closed eyes was Cedric and Sirius and Dumbledore. He had never taken Draco up on his offers to discuss the dreams, even though he asked every time one occurred. He hoped he would one day have the courage to tell him everything._

_Draco unfolded himself, sitting forward with his legs crossed as he skimmed a hand over the bubbly surface. “With how often I find you in here I’m starting to think you’re using me for my bathroom.”_

_Harry chuckled and grabbed Draco’s hand when it brushed over his knee. “It is a nice bathroom,” he agreed with a soft smile._

_Draco grinned at him and wound their fingers together. He brought their hands to his mouth and brushed a gentle kiss over Harry’s knuckles. “I love you, you know,” he said suddenly._

_Harry’s breath caught and he stared at Draco with his mouth slightly open. It was the first time he had ever heard those words coming from those lips. A part of him had expected that he would never hear it and he was overjoyed now at how wrong he had been. “You love me?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He swallowed and squeezed Draco’s fingers between his, unable to get any other words to come out of his mouth._

_Draco smiled and kissed his hand again before abruptly letting go. He climbed to his knees and leaned over the tub until his mouth was hovering just over Harry’s. “Yes, I love you,” he said again. He kissed him gently. It was so unlike the usual greedy, passionate kisses that Harry was used to that it made his head spin._

_“You love me,” Harry said again and this time it was a statement, not a question. He raised a hand to grip Draco’s shoulder, not caring that he was soaking the man’s pajamas. A smile spread over Harry’s face and he raised his head to kiss him again._

_“And you love me,” Draco said against his lips, not a trace of uncertainty in his voice. He pressed his forehead to Harry’s and closed his eyes._

_“Yes,” Harry whispered. “I love you.”_

Thunder rumbled in the distance and the rain began to fall a bit harder and Harry finally pushed himself forward, hurrying across the street and towards the sidewalk ahead that would lead him to either heartache or utter happiness.

He pushed open the gate and took a step inside the courtyard and promptly stopped in his tracks when he saw a blond man sitting on the awning covered steps, his arms wrapped around his legs and his cheek resting against his knees. Harry’s entire plan fled him and he struggled to breathe as he tried to come up with a new one on the spot. But his brain wouldn’t cooperate.

“Draco,” he said so softly that he was sure the man couldn’t possibly hear him over the rain and wind.

But he did. Draco’s head darted up, his eyes falling immediately on Harry as he calmly climbed to his feet.

Harry took another few steps forward. “Hi,” he said with a hesitant smile.

There was nothing hesitant about the smile that Draco gave him in return. His eyes lit up and his face was open and absolutely lovely. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

A bright smile stole over Harry’s face even as the wind and cold sent shivers down his spine. “Philippe?” he asked a bit warily.

Draco took the last two steps down to meet Harry on the sidewalk. “Gone.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

He knew what he wanted the answer to be, but he was so bloody terrified that he would be wrong. And if he was wrong about this, it would surely break him. He stared up at Draco and shook his head, unsure if he should say what he was thinking.

Draco took his arm and pulled him closer, resting their foreheads together in that old familiar way he had often done years ago. His warm breath fanned over Harry’s cheeks and lips and the brunet felt himself relaxing despite the butterflies in his stomach.

“Because you love me,” Harry whispered and he tried so very hard to inject some sort of confidence into his voice.

Draco brought a hand up to clutch at the rain-soaked material of Harry’s shirt and exhaled in what sounded like relief. He gave a slight nod.

Harry kissed him.

THE END


End file.
